


Parenting for Beginners

by codex213



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Gen, Parenthood, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codex213/pseuds/codex213
Summary: When Hermione, Draco, Ron, and Ginny return to Hogwarts after the War, everything is different. A new parenting class is required for all seventh years, and Hermione and Draco have been paired together. Life has other plans for Hermione Granger, though.There will be an eventual pairing, and pairings will be updated as they crop up. The story has just gone a different direction than I anticipated. Unplanned pregnancy and single parenthood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This is the first Harry Potter fic I've written in years, so please be gentle. This is the first in what I hope to be a great series. Please leave any and all feedback. I know that initially, this was a Dramione fic, but the story has veered off in a different direction. I will update the tags as needed when relationships become known, if it progresses that way.

Hermione Granger had always known that she was different--destined to do great things. Everyone called her the cleverest witch of her age, and most of the time she enjoyed the special attention that this garnered. But now everything was different. Now she wasn’t sure that she would ever be the same again. Her seventh year at Hogwarts was supposed to be her best year. She was going to blow through it, acing her N.E.W.T.S and getting offered a job at the Ministry of Magic. But now Fred was gone, Ron wasn’t speaking to anyone, and Harry wasn’t coming back to finish school. And she was partnered with Draco Malfoy for the stupidest class she’d ever heard of. 

The class had been required by the Ministry of Magic. After the war, the Ministry had wanted to promote inter-house unity, and this class was the answer. Everyone was paired off and had to raise a baby doll enchanted to act like the real thing. Naturally, Hermione and Draco Malfoy were partners; the doll would be their responsibility until the end of the year. Except that Hermione couldn’t concentrate. It wasn’t a bad thing, if she allowed herself to admit that the pain and the memories of the War were still too fresh to deal with. Draco Malfoy was walking around the castle, the same haunted look in his eyes that she felt within herself. She no longer felt clever, or intelligent. She felt hunted, unwanted, and unworthy. Her teachers noticed the change in her demeanor; occasionally, someone would try to get her to talk about it. 

“Hermione, you’ve got to talk to someone,” Professor McGonagall told her one day in early October. Hermione's eyes were bloodshot from another sleepless night, and she couldn’t even perform a simple Switching Spell anymore. 

“I’m fine,” Hermione replied, though her voice held no emotion. She had tried to talk to someone right after the war; she didn’t want Professor McGonagall to know that the counselor had wanted to admit her to St. Mungo’s for observation.

“A lot has happened. We’ve all lost people we love,” Professor McGonagall said gently, snapping Hermione's attention back to the present. The witch had a point; Dumbledore, Snape, Fred...there were too many deaths to handle.

“I...I’ve got to go,” Hermione mumbled, turning to leave before her eyes could flood with the all-too-familiar tears that were welling in the backs of her eyes, threatening to burst forth at any moment. Turning on her heel, she ran into a solid body. 

“Sorry,” she said quickly, glancing up only long enough to catch a glimpse of blonde hair before hurrying from the classroom. ‘Of course I run into Draco fucking Malfoy,’ she thought to herself, glancing at her watch. She had the rest of the afternoon free. Sighing, she made her way to the one place that still felt a little like home to her: the library. 

Hermione wasn’t hungry by the time dinner rolled around. She stayed in the library, skillfully avoiding the hard gaze of Madam Pince. She pulled a piece of parchment out of her bag and sat thinking for a long time before beginning to write. 

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope this finds you well. Ron, Ginny, and I are doing fine. We miss you. I ran into Malfoy today--literally. He had the gall to smile at me, like he found it funny. At least he’s still his normal self. I haven’t been able to focus lately. McGonagall says that I need to--’_ The sound of a voice clearing behind her made Hermione jump, almost knocking over her inkwell. Glancing shakily behind her, the brunette identified the sound of the voice as Draco Malfoy.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” she asked exasperatedly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“You seem out of sorts,” Draco replied, lifting one shoulder. He thought about smiling at the brunette, but thought better of it. He didn’t want hexed into the next century.

“How is that any of your business?” Hermione asked brusquely, gathering her supplies and standing. 

“It’s not. But we _are_ partners in that Parenting class. I need to know if I’m doing it alone,” the blonde replied, smirking. “Tell your boyfriend I said hi.”

“He is not my boyfriend!” the brunette hissed, brushing past Malfoy, careful not to let her anger rise to the surface and only barely succeeding. 

Returning to the common room a few moments later, Hermione found herself corned by Ron and Ginny. Dodging questions about where she was at dinner, how she was doing, and if Ron could borrow her homework, Hermione finally found herself alone in her dormitory. She tried to finish her letter to Harry, but it felt forced, even to her. Thinking she may as well get it over with, the brunette pulled a scrap piece of parchment out of her bag and scribbled a quick note.

_Don’t know why they’re even making us take that class. We need to talk about a game plan. Do you want to meet?_

Hermione charmed it to deliver itself to Draco and changed into pajamas before crawling into bed. Her eyes felt heavy, but she knew the chances of her actually getting sleep were slim to none. 

_It’s late, Granger. I’m trying to sleep. Meet me tomorrow in the Entrance Hall after breakfast and we’ll talk._

The note landed on Hermione's lap, and she scowled at it. At least some things were still the same. Her eyes finally closing, Hermione fell into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time since the War.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor McGonagall confronts Hermione, and the class receives their assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, but the story is my own creation. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

The next day came much too soon. Hermione ate just enough to satisfy Ron and Ginny, and waited in the Entrance Hall for Draco to show up, sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. She placed one hand over her stomach protectively and bit her lip. She couldn’t be...there was no way...Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sound of heels clicking on the smooth floor. Glancing up, she saw Professor McGonagall exiting the Great Hall, striding toward the brunette with purpose. “Come with me, Miss Granger,” she said seriously, beckoning the Gryffindor to follow her. Slowly, Hermione rose to her feet, exhaling a shaky breath. 

When they reached the headmaster’s office, Professor McGonagall gestured to an overstuffed chair near the fire, taking a seat in the chair opposite. Sitting down, Hermione nervously jiggled her foot, waiting for the headmistress to speak. After a tense moment, the older witch finally spoke. “There is no easy way to say this, Miss Granger. There are...whispers...throughout the school. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Professor McGonagall began, peering at Hermione over her spectacles, which had slid down her nose. 

“N-no…” Hermione said softly, her voice barely audible.

“Are you sure?” McGonagall asked, almost gently.

“I-I don’t know,” Hermione answered honestly, trying to make a decision.

“The truth will always win out, no matter how much you may try to conceal it. I’m sure you recognize that more than most.”

“I...I think I might be pregnant,” Hermione replied in a small voice, finally putting voice to her fears. She had hoped against hope that she was wrong, that it was a mistake. She had hoped that the nausea and mood swings were just part of her post-war stress. 

“Do you know who the father is?” Professor McGonagall asked, leveling her gaze with Hermione’s. The Ministry had feared that this may happen, especially with the older students coming back; it was the reason the class existed in the first place.

“It’s one of three people….” Hermione said slowly, feeling her cheeks begin to burn. She _really_ didn’t want to have this conversation. Closing her eyes, she took a deep, steadying breath. When she opened them again, Professor McGonagall was looking at her, but not with the sternness that Hermione expected.

“Weasley is one of the candidates, I assume? And Potter?”McGonagall asked, a smile twitching at her lips despite the seriousness of the issue.  
“Yes. And...and Malfoy,” Hermione said in a rush, the blonde’s name a whisper. Professor McGonagall frowned at the last unlikely candidate for fatherhood, but knew better than to comment on it.

“Are you planning to tell any of them?” she asked the brunette in front of her, folding her hands in her lap.

“Do you know what would happen if I did? Draco already hates me, Ron would freak out, and Harry….Harry….I don’t know what Harry would do!” Hermione burst out, near tears. 

“You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to. However, I think it would be wise to let them know what they may be dealing with. Whatever the consequences, you’ll be fine. The staff and I stand behind you,” Professor McGonagall finished, smiling at Hermione. 

***  


Hermione didn’t see Draco until Professor McGonagall’s parenting class. “You bailed on me this morning, Granger,” he said in way of greeting. Taking her seat, Hermione stared straight ahead as she replied.

“Something came up,” she said carefully, her eyes fixed on the board as Professor McGonagall pulled a large box from under her desk. 

“Today, you and your partner will receive your children. Each baby doll has been enchanted to behave like a real child would.To make the care of the child easier, each pair of parents will live together in a small, two-bedroom apartment. Now, now,” the elderly witch said, raising her voice to get the attention of her students again.

“The Great Hall has been enchanted to admit only one pair of partners into each apartment. When you are in your apartment, the Great Hall will appear normal to other students. There are, however, visiting hours, in which one partner can leave to visit other apartments. Each apartment is guarded by a password, which you will be given. I will know, Mr. Malfoy, who has said the password and how long they remained in the apartment,” the professor continued, her piercing eyes meeting his gray ones. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Draco drawled, a sneer playing on his lips. 

“You don’t have to sleep in the apartment if you don’t want to,” Hermione snapped before glancing up at Professor McGonagall. “Right, professor?”

“Correct, Miss Granger. You may choose to sleep in your dormitories if you so wish. But you must be in your apartment for a minimum of 4 hours a day. No, Mr. Finnegan, that does NOT mean merely being in the Great Hall.” Professor McGonagall finished, and began handing out dolls to various pairs of students.  
“Granger and Malfoy,” she finally called, and the pair made their way to the front of the class. “The password to your apartment is ‘Violet’. You are proud parents of a baby boy. What would you like to name him?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“Hugo Nicolas,” Hermione said without thinking. 

“Why in the bloody hell does it have two first names? And why Hugo?” Draco asked, lowering his voice so only Hermione and Professor McGonagall could hear him.

“Nicolas is his middle name, Draco. And I like the name Hugo. Do you have any better suggestions?” Hermione asked, weariness heavy on her voice.

“Scorpius. Cassiopeia if it’s a girl.” Draco replied, shrugging. 

“You could be the proud parents of twins, if you’d like,” Professor McGonagall interjected, looking pointedly at Draco. “That way you could both name one.” 

Draco turned paler than usual, his eyes widening. “Hugo Nicolas is fine. Great name,” he said hurriedly. 

Making their way to their seats, Hermione cradled the doll to her chest, pretending that Draco didn’t exist.

“One more thing before you go. The Ministry has given me notice that four pairs in this class must have multiples. There will be two sets of twins and two sets of triplets. To make the selection fair, I have placed each partner pair into this goblet. Whoever gets drawn gets multiples. The ministry will be alerted of the partners who have multiples, so if you are drawn, there are no trades,” Professor McGonagall called quickly as students began gathering up their stuff. Stopping in mid-movement, all eyes turned and met hers. 

The goblet that had been sitting on Professor McGonagall’s desk suddenly spit out four pieces of parchment rapidly. “If I call your name, please stay behind. Otherwise, you are free to go. Finnegan and Greengrass, Malfoy and Granger, Thomas and Parkinson, and Longbottom and Bulstrode.”

Slowly, Hermione made her way to the front of the classroom with Draco as everyone filed past, some arguing about their dolls and some swooning over them already. She couldn’t believe it. There had to be some kind of mistake. 

“I’m sorry about this, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said softly as the pair approached. “It appears that you now have a baby girl as well as a baby boy. What would you like to name her?”

“Cassiopeia Estella,” Draco said automatically, handing the doll to Hermione before turning on his heel and walking out of the classroom, leaving the brunette gaping after him. Smiling weakly at Professor McGonagall, Hermione turned and slowly began gathering up her things.

As soon as she was out of the classroom, Hermione leaned against a wall for support, tears threatening to spill over. Ron rounded the corner just then, an angry look on his face. 

“Is it true, ‘Mione?” he asked roughly, his face and ears redder than she’d ever seen them.

“Is what true?” she replied in a small voice, not quite meeting his gaze.

“Everyone’s saying that you’re….that you’ll have a baby soon, and I’m the father. Is it true?!” he asked, fighting to keep his voice even. 

“I...I don’t know. I don’t even know if I really _am_ pregnant, Ronald. And it’s not like I chose this! I don’t even know if I want the father in my baby’s life.” Hermione retorted, shifting the dolls in her arms. 

“Well, what if the father wants to be a part of the baby’s life?” Ron replied, his voice rising.

“I can’t do this right now,” Hermione whispered before turning on her heel and dashing toward the Great Hall, tears blinding her vision. Muttering ‘violet’, the opened the door to her apartment and sunk to her knees, tears falling openly. She heard a small pop behind her, alerting her that someone else had just used their password. Standing and wiping her face, she went into the nursery, laying the dolls down in cribs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations are made, arguments are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I do not own Harry Potter characters, I just put them in this situation.

Hermione was sitting in a rocking chair in the nursery by the time Draco was inside the apartment. She had managed to wipe her tears away, but her face was still red from crying. “Granger, I know you’re in here,” Draco called out. For a split second, Hermione thought about not saying anything. Maybe if Draco didn’t get a response, he would just leave.

“I’m in the nursery,” she called back, her voice wobbling a bit on the last word.

“Your boyfriend the weasel told me I needed to talk to you. Sounded pretty upset,” Draco smirked, leaning against the doorjamb. Great. This was exactly what she didn’t want to happen.

Drawing a deep breath, Hermione stood and closed the distance between them. She really didn’t want to do this. Especially not here, not now. One hand rested protectively over her stomach; she saw Draco’s eyes follow the movement as recognition dawned on his face.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered, his pupils dilating the tiniest bit. 

“I...I think I’m pregnant. And you might be the father,” Hermione said softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Turning on his heel, Draco stalked out of the tiny apartment, slamming the door behind him. “That could have gone better,” she muttered bitterly, moving into the kitchen to prepare some tea. 

When her tea was ready, Hermione went back to the nursery. Even though they were just enchantments, being around babies made her feel slightly better. Sipping her tea in her rocker, Hermione finally allowed her pent-up tears to fall, the saltiness mingling with the sweetness of the tea in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She didn’t know when she fell asleep, only when she was shocked into wakefulness by the sound of screams.

For a moment, she was back on the battlefield, blood and dirt smearing and staining her clothes. She was back with Bellatrix, being tortured for something that she had no control over….Her eyes snapped into focus and she sat up straighter. The twins were crying, but there was something else...something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Standing warily, she moved to the identical cribs, picking up Hugo and Cassiopeia. _’This has got to be the stupidest thing that the Ministry has ever done,’_ she thought to herself, looking into the life-like faces and holding back another round of tears. 

“I’ll take Cassiopeia,” Draco said, not quite meeting Hermione’s eyes. Without a word, Hermione held the doll out to Draco, and he quietly took it, moving to one of the changing tables. 

“You know, this doesn’t change anything, Draco,” Hermione said reluctantly, zipping Hugo’s onesie back up and cradling the still-crying infant. 

“What do you mean, this doesn’t change anything? This changes everything. Jesus, Hermione, I might be a dad. And you sit there and tell me it doesn’t change anything!” Draco retorted, his voice as cold as ice, causing her to flinch instinctively.

“I don’t even know if it’s yours! It could be Ron’s, or Harry’s,” Hermione replied, shushing the baby in her arms. “And even if you were the father, it isn’t like you’d want the baby or anything to do with it. It wouldn’t be a pureblood,” the brunette snapped, walking out of the nursery to warm a bottle. 

Draco trailed behind her, muttering under his breath even as he warmed a bottle for Cassiopeia. “It would change everything, Granger. Your kid could have a great life. A manor, servants….the whole thing,” Draco said flippantly, as though he were making her an offer she couldn’t refuse.

“I don’t want my child to grow up being a selfish, spoiled prat like you, Draco!” Hermione said sharply, turning to look at the blonde for the first time since she told him that she may be pregnant. “And you don’t even know that it’s yours!”

Draco scoffed at the notion, like Hermione must be daft to be suggesting such things. “Of course it won’t be spoiled. I’m not a spoiled prat, am I?” Draco suggesting, smiling the way he did when he wanted something to go his way. 

“It might not be your baby, Malfoy,” Hermione said firmly, signaling that the discussion was over for the time being. Tucking Hugo into his crib, she continued quietly, “I’m not even sure if I am pregnant, or if I’ll make it to term…” The unsaid words about all the stressors of war and the effects that they had endured because of them hung thickly in the air between them. 

“You really trust Potter or the Weasel to take care of a baby?” Draco scoffed, setting Cassiopeia in the crib once more, his piercing eyes meeting her molten ones for the first time that day. Hermione sunk tiredly down into the recliner, still cradling Hugo to her chest.

“I don’t know that I trust _you_ to take care of a baby,” she spat at the blonde, jerking her head towards the door. “Besides, you should probably go. Didn’t your girlfriend end up with Seamus?” Hermione said rather pointedly. 

“Fine. They can’t make me stay in this cruddy hole in the wall for four hours anyway,” Draco said sullenly, slamming the door behind him as he left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The father is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always I don't own the HP characters or plot, I only play with them. Also I'm fighting a nasty bout of depression, so this chapter is probably darker than the others. In a way, the darkness fits the chapter, so hopefully it works and you like it! As always, comments and feedback are more than welcome.

Hermione knew that she had to tell Harry. It wasn’t right that Ron and Draco knew, but he didn’t. She drew a shaky breath as she looked at the clock. 3 AM. Sighing, she pulled a scrap piece of parchment out of her bag and sat down at the round kitchen table. The brunette swiped her bangs out of her eyes and began to write, then stopped, quill poised above parchment. What was she going to say? ‘Harry, might be pregnant, could be yours, kindly send owl with your reply’? She rubbed her eyes and took a sip from her coffee mug. Empty. Sighing, she stood up and began brewing another pot, leaning against the counter as if it were the only thing holding her upright. She heard a small pop, followed by a very faint knock at the door, as though someone knew that she would be awake, but didn’t want to risk waking the babies. Glancing warily through the keyhole, she found herself face-to-face with Professor McGonagall. 

Once the professor was seated at the coffee table, Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Professor McGonagall held up her hand to stop her. “I’ve done some research,” she began quietly, talking very quickly. The coffee began percolating before Hermione could respond, and the brunette rushed to turn it off before it woke the twins. Pouring herself another mug, she offered some to the older witch. 

“No thank you, Miss Granger. As I was saying, I’ve done some research,” Professor McGonagall began again, talking quickly and quietly. “This is an….unusual situation for Hogwarts, and even more so for you. I must admit, I never expected this from you. Nevertheless, I found a way for you to determine who the father of your child is. And I have a proposition for you,” Professor McGonagall continued with the thinnest of smiles. 

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair before answering the older woman. “What way is that, Professor? And what proposition?” she asked weakly. Her head was spinning; she couldn’t think straight. Her hand instinctively went back to her stomach as she tried to regain control. It felt like her world was out of control; none of this was supposed to have happened.

“There is a complicated spell that will reveal the paternity of a baby, even before it is born. There will be no harm done to either you or the baby, however,” Professor McGonagall explained, keeping a keen eye on Hermione. The last thing she needed was for the girl to go into shock, though truth be told, she was quite impressed with how well the brunette was handling the entire situation. 

Hermione sniffled and nodded her head minutely. Reality was finally beginning to sink in. Her mind flooded with memories: some of the war, some of the nights after the war, all of them painful. Swallowing thickly, she met Professor McGonagall’s eyes once more. “Does the spell do anything else, or only paternity?” she asked. 

“Only paternity. A nurse from St. Mungo’s has also been brought in to assist Madam Pomfrey in providing your care,” Professor McGonagall replied. Hermione nodded again, so the older witch pressed on. “As for the proposition….I’d like you to stay on at Hogwarts. After your seventh year is up. If you’d like. There are, as you know, a number of open positions available. You could have your pick of subject.”

Hermione’s mouth opened the slightest bit. “Are-are you offering me a job?” she squeaked, suddenly interested in her hands. 

“If you’d take it. We need a bright witch teaching the children. And it’d be nice to have a little one running around the castle,” Professor McGonagall said, her face cracking into a smile for the first time in a long time. There was too much death and destruction lately; a child would be a very welcome addition to the castle, indeed.

“I’ll take it,” Hermione answered, allowing herself to dream of the future, if only just for a moment. “When can you do the spell?” she asked, remembering the entire reason that Professor McGonagall was here.

“I can do it now, if you’d like,” the kindly witch said, standing and smiling down at Hermione. The brunette stood as well, her hands protectively covering her stomach again. Professor McGonagall smiled thinly and began mouthing words at a pace that Hermione had never seen. She didn’t dare interrupt, though, because Professor McGonagall looked like she was concentrating very hard; her eyes were squinted almost all the way shut and tiny droplets of sweat were popping out near her temples. Hermione felt the wordless magic flow through her, and understanding dawned on her, crashing over her like a wave. By the time the spell was complete, both women were panting.

“I...I know who the father is,” Hermione said between breaths. 

Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows arched as she asked primly, “Who is the father, Miss Granger?”

“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione whispered, her eyes wide.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione confronts both Draco and Ron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much! I never expected this to take off the way that it has. Keep the feedback coming, along with anything that you want to see in the future. As always, the characters and world and story belong to J.K. Rowling, I only play with them.

Days turned into weeks, and Hermione had only seen Draco a handful of times. In many ways it was better, but in some it was worse. It was worse because it meant that she was doing Professor McGonagall’s class on her own, and it was worse because she still hadn’t told Draco the news. She also hadn’t faced Ron in the weeks that followed her late-night conversation with Professor McGonagall. She knew she had to talk to them both, at some point in time, but there never seemed to be a perfect time to do it. She had practiced countless conversations with both Draco and Ron, but nothing sounded right. Her nights were filled with dreams of how she had gotten to this point, so she tried to avoid sleeping. After a particularly long night staying up with the twins, Hermione drifted into the light slumber she was used to from the war, the familiar dream an unwelcome guest. 

_It was the night after Fred’s funeral, and grief hung heavy in the air. George wasn’t speaking to anyone, and Ron sought solace in her and Harry. They had gone out that night, hoping to feel something other than crushing grief that had surrounded them for so long. It had been Harry’s idea; Ron wanted to lose himself in his grief. It was normal, expected, even, for Ron to withdraw after that. But he had grudgingly agreed to go, on one condition: Hermione go to, and actually have a shot of Firewhiskey. One shot led to three shots, which led to her stumbling drunkenly into Draco Malfoy. His arm reached out instinctively, steadying the brunette. “Careful, Granger,” he said, taking a moment longer than necessary to release her. Ron had taken a drunken step toward Malfoy, his teeth all but bared._

__

_Harry had held Ron back, saying that they didn’t need another fight, not tonight, not after everything. Ron had turned back toward Harry, taking a swing at the other man. He missed spectacularly, but that didn’t stop Harry from pulling his wand out defensively. “What are you gonna do? Cast _Expelliarmus_? That’s the only spell you know,” the redhead slurred, provoking Harry. _

__

__

__

_Hermione had rushed forward to separate the two, but a tug on her sleeve prevented her from moving. The pale hand belonged to Draco, and he was smirking. “Let’s leave them be. You need to detox,” he said in an undertone. Hermione nodded, but took another shot before following him out the door. She didn’t remember where they went, but when she woke up the next morning, a very tousled Draco was lying beside her, his head propped up on his hand. Grey eyes met brown for only a second, before he was up and pulling clothes on. “You can show yourself out, Granger,” he said, his usual sneer back in his voice. And with a pop, he was gone._

__

Hermione woke in a cold sweat. She knew what she had to do. And she knew that she had to do it today. Glancing at the alarm clock, she was relieved when it was only 7:00 AM. It was Saturday, so finding the two people she needed to talk to the most would be fairly simple. Exiting the apartment for what felt like the first time in days, the brunette made her way to Gryffindor Tower. Only Ginny was in the common room. “Where’s Ron?” Hermione asked, standing beside the portrait hole. Ron never went anywhere on the weekends if he could help it. 

__

“He went to Hogsmeade. Something about Firewhiskey?” Ginny replied, shrugging her shoulders before going back to her copy of Quidditch Quarterly.

__

Hermione frowned slightly at the younger woman before going back out the portrait hole. Of course he would be at the Three Broomsticks. Now that she was thinking about it, Hermione had to admit that it made sense. Leaving the castle grounds, Hermione made her way to Hogsmeade, avoiding the students who tried to talk to her. She felt like she might throw up the second she opened her mouth. 

__

The bell above the door to the Three Broomsticks jingled as Hermione pushed her way in a few moments later. The bar was, thankfully, mostly empty, but the few people who were there turned to look at her as she entered. Scanning the room, Hermione quickly saw Ron, and her mouth fell open. Ron wasn’t alone. He was with Draco Malfoy, each of them with a Firewhiskey in front of them. Setting her chin, Hermione made her way to their table. “Ronald, I need to talk to you,” she said impatiently.

__

“Then talk,” Ron slurred, his blue eyes shining with the effects of the Firewhiskey. Hermione huffed in frustration; she didn’t want to do this in front of Draco. She didn’t even know what she was going to say to Draco. 

__

“Ronald, you’re not the father,” Hermione stated, the matter-of-factness creeping slightly back into her voice. Ron stood up, swaying as he began to talk.

__

“What d’you mean I’m not the father? O’ course I’m the father,” he said, his face red.

__

“You’re not the father, Ronald. Professor McGonagall….did a test,” Hermione finished quietly, looking down at her hands.

__

“So it’s Potter, then, is it?” Malfoy interjected, a look of relief on his pale face.

__

“Actually….” Hermione began.

__

“This git is the father?!” Ron interrupted, going redder than ever. “He can’t be! He doesn’t know the first thing about babies, he’d make a downright cruddy father!”

__

“Like you’d be any better,” Malfoy retorted, his face slightly pink. 

__

“Just because you’re the father, Draco, doesn’t mean that I want you in my child’s life,” Hermione replied. “As for you, Ronald...you don’t know the first thing about being a father, either. Ginny is only a year younger than you. And with you drinking so much now, I’m not sure I would want my child around you either,” the brunette continued, rounding on Ron. With one last look between the pair, Hermione turned on her heel and marched out of the Three Broomsticks, making her way back to the castle.

__

Ron glared at Draco for a moment before finishing the rest of his Firewhiskey in one gulp and leaving the bar. Weaving through the now-crowded streets, he searched through the throngs of people, looking for the familiar bushy hair. Not finding it, the redhead resigned himself to going back to the common room; at least his mother would be happy that he hadn’t fathered a baby out of wedlock. By the time he reached Gryffindor Tower, Ron was mainly sober. Entering the common room, he found Hermione sitting beside Ginny, telling her something in a low voice. From the look on Ginny’s face, Ron knew that Hermione had just informed her of the pregnancy--and the paternity. Shooting a quick glare at her brother, the youngest Weasley stood and went up to the girls dormitory, leaving Ron and Hermione alone. 

__

“I’m sorry...about the Three Broomsticks,” Ron began, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. He was looking everywhere except directly at Hermione.

__

“You’re no better than Malfoy,” Hermione spat vehemently, not getting up from her seat. 

__

“Do you really think that I wouldn’t take care of my own child? That Mum wouldn’t love it?” he asked, still not meeting her eyes.

__

“Your mum is worried enough about _you_. She writes me at least once a week, begging me to get you to stop drinking so much. After Fred died..”

__

“Don’t you dare talk about Fred! Don’t you dare think you have any right to talk about him!” Ron exploded, his ears and face rapidly reddening in anger.

__

“Ron, he was my friend too,” Hermione tried again gently.

__

“He was my _brother_!” Ron shouted, his eyes glistening with anger and unshed tears. 

__

“And he was your mum’s son! She doesn’t want to lose another one!” Hermione shouted back, standing and crossing the room. “Besides, your mum’s already made a jumper for when the baby arrives,” Hermione finished softly, walking out of the portrait hole.

__


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco confronts Hermione, and she comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and commenting; I appreciate it! I'm sorry that A.) this chapter is so short and B.) that it came out a little later than usual. My depression has been getting the best of me for the past few days, so if it isn't up to par, that's why. Sorry!

It was a warm day for December when Hermione’s baby bump made it noticeable for the first time that she was pregnant. Professor McGonagall had expected it for quite some time now, but she also wasn’t about about to let rumors follow the brunette wherever she went in the castle. Hermione was in Professor McGonagall’s office when the Howler arrived. Mrs. Weasley’s voice soon filled the chamber, echoing off of the stone walls. “Not my grandchild! How dare you get Ronald’s hopes up! And mine! Who’s going to raise this baby?! Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into?!” By the time that the letter had self-destructed, Hermione was in tears and Professor McGonagall was paler than Hermione could ever remember. The older witch’s mouth was set in a firm, thin line. 

“I’ll sort this out with Molly,” Professor McGonagall told the brunette gently, turning angrily on her heel and stalking out of her own office. Left alone with her thoughts, the Gryffindor fought the urge to burst into tears once more. Sending a Howler like this was out of character, especially for Mrs. Weasley. Hermione could only guess that the war had changed her more profoundly than she had ever let on, but that didn’t make this okay. Standing on her own wobbly legs, Hermione left the office and threaded her way through the throngs of students milling about in between the end of classes and the beginning of dinner.

Everyone’s eyes were on her, roving from her face to her stomach, mouths open in astonishment. Arriving in the Great Hall and muttering ‘violet’ under her breath, Hermione felt the familiar sensation of going _home_ , or as close to home as you could get without actually leaving Hogwarts. She fed and diapered the babies, rocking them to sleep in the recliner in the nursery. Draco Malfoy hadn’t said anything after learning of his paternity, and the radio silence continued even now. Hermione knew that by now rumors were flying around the castle as to who the father was; she wondered if Draco was fueling those rumors by insisting that the baby was Harry’s, or if he would actually own up to fathering a baby.

****

Hermione’s eyes flew open; she hadn’t remembered falling asleep. As she was jolted into wake, she felt a shifting in her arms--someone was moving the babies. Her head whipped around the now-dark nursery as her eyes tried to adjust. When she finally was able to focus, both babies were in Draco Malfoy’s arms, and he was putting them in their respective cribs. Hermione’s hands flew protectively to her stomach; her mouth was suddenly much drier than she could remember it being in a long time, and words were hard to come by. “W-wh…”the words were barely a whisper. Clearing her throat, Hermione tried again.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly, and not nearly as confidently as she would have liked.

Draco merely lifted one shoulder , not stopping what he was doing or making eye contact with the Gryffindor for more than a few seconds. “I thought I’d put in some time,” he explained, straightening up and squaring his jaw before continuing to speak. “I spoke with my mother. She agreed with me--your baby….our baby….could live on the estate, have the kind of childhood I did,” he offered, making an effort not to speak down to Hermione.

“I’ve already made up my mind, Draco. After the baby is born, Professor McGonagall is giving me a year before I start teaching. I’m going to find my parents, and lift the obliviation. I’m going to spend that year with them.”

“That’s my child, too, Granger!” Malfoy all but snarled, careful to keep his voice low. “Have you even talked to McGonagall about this? Is it something that can even be done?”

“I’m talking to Professor McGonagall tomorrow. And the only reason that you’re interested in having a hand at all in raising your child is because your mother told you to,” Hermione said stiffly, not moving from the rocker. 

“Just….” Draco befan, running a pale hand through his blonde hair. “Just think about my offer, okay?” he asked, waiting for the curt nod from Hermione before stalking off to the second bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot twists galore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, the characters and world are not mine....I just play with them. Keep the comments coming!

The next morning, between breakfast and the start of classes, Hermione made her way up to Professor McGonagall’s office. She had told Draco that she would speak to the older witch today, and she had every intention of following it through. As she raised her fist to knock on the door, though, the door swung open, revealing a sterner-than-usual looking Professor McGonagall. “Good morning, Miss Granger,” the teacher said, standing aside to let Draco Malfoy exit the office. “Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Malfoy,” she said to the blonde, who shot her a smile before starting down the steps. “Come inside.” It wasn’t an invitation as much as a demand. Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat as she followed Professor McGonagall inside.

Gesturing to the empty seat, Professor McGonagall took her own seat behind the oaken desk. “Mister Malfoy has just told me some interesting news, Miss Granger,: the professor began, folding her hands on her desk. Hermione desperately wanted to be anywhere else but where she was right now. She tried to look as innocent as possible, but she knew that she wasn’t fooling anyone, especially when Professor McGonagall began speaking again.

“You want to lift the obliviation from your parents,” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Hermione managed, becoming suddenly interested in the floor. 

“That is a very complicated undertaking. Have you consider Mr. Malfoy’s offer?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“I’d really rather not have Draco involved at this moment,” Hermione replied, her resolve coming back to her. 

“That is your decision, but be warned that, even if you do successfully lift the obliviation, your parents may not be the same people that you remember. I also took the liberty of contacting both Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy on your behalf,” the older witch explained, even as three quick raps came at her office door.

Moments later, Professor McGonagall was offering the two older women tea, and offering them seats on either side of Hermione. Hermione could feel their gaze on her, could feel the redness rising in her face. She tried hard not to look at them, opting instead to gaze interestedly at the stone tile. She would have expected this from someone--anyone--else, but definitely not Professor McGonagall. Molly Weasley was the first one to break the silence. 

“Hermione, I’m sorry for the way that I reacted. After the war, I wanted so badly to have a glimmer of hope, a chance for some life and light in this darkness. And I reacted...well, I reacted very poorly. I’m sorry, my dear. But know that whatever you need, I will be there for you,” the redheaded woman said, tears glistening in her eyes. Whatever Professor McGonagall had said to her must have really gotten to Molly--or her kids had alerted her before the head of Gryffindor house could. 

“It’s okay, really,” Hermione said awkwardly, not quite meeting Molly’s eyes. Her head was swimming and her stomach felt full of lead. The brunette noticed that she had trouble swallowing as an uncomfortable silence once again fell over the women. 

“I must ask,” Narcissa Malfoy began, clearing her throat delicately. “Are you absolutely sure that Draco is the father? I mean, there were two other contenders, were there not?”

“Of course she’s sure!” Molly burst out, before turning back to Professor McGonagall. “You are quite sure--right?”

Professor McGonagall afforded both women a tight-lipped smile. “Of course we are quite sure. Although, if you’d prefer, we can do the spell again, right now,” she offered, giving her shoulders the slightest of shrugs.

“Np, that’s--that’s not necessary,” Hermione said suddenly, her cheeks flushing. “Harry and I...we had sex before I did anything with Draco. Ron and I didn’t do anything until a month after Draco,” she explained quickly. 

“So it could still be the Potter boy’s,” Narcissa suggested with a sickly sweet smile. This, apparently, was enough of a challenge for Professor McGonagall, because she wordlessly and effortlessly performed the same spell that she had done back in Hermione’s apartment. This time, though, the elder witch faltered. Hermione faltered, as well.

“Well?” Narcissa demanded. Professor McGonagall’s eyes met Hermione’s wide, brown ones. 

“This can’t be right,” Hermione muttered under her breath, her brows furrowed together in confusion. “You told me that the accuracy of that spell was undisputed,” she said softly, becoming suddenly interested in the floor again. 

“It is supposed to be. But no spell is ever one hundred percent accurate, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said gently, trying to keep the enthusiasm out of her voice.

“Who is the father of this….woman’s….baby?!” Narcissa demanded, hands tightly balled into fists on her lap.

“You’ll be pleased to know, Narcissa, that it appears that Draco is out of the running. The spell, when cast this time, gave much more information than it did when initially cast,” Professor McGonagall explained, trying to keep the shakiness out of her voice. 

“So it’s either Harry or Ron?” Molly asked, her face turning pink and her voice an octave higher than usual. 

“The spell, when performed in the presence of blood relatives, is stronger and reveals more information. This is because of the blood magic involved--having two or more sources of familial blood yields better results than the mother alone. This baby was conceived on October 5,” Professor McGonagall explained, flashing a piercing look in Hermione’s direction. 

Hermione’s hand flew to cover her mouth. October 5 was the first Hogsmeade weekend, and her and Ron spent their time in the Three Broomsticks, taking Firewhiskey shots, before proceeding to explore the Shrieking Shack. And then the Firewhiskey had taken effect, and one thing led to another….

Professor McGonagall nodded knowingly at Hermione, and the Gryffindor knew that it was time to tell Molly. “It’s…” she started, losing her nerve. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “It’s Ron’s baby,” she said, not quite half-heartedly. 

“It’s not only one baby, either. You’re having twins, Hermione. They’ll be due around June 28,” Professor McGonagall interjected. The room grew very silent, but Professor McGonagall kept talking. “I will, of course, speak with the Ministry. You will not be required to complete the parenting course, but you will still have access to your apartment. I may even be able to work something up for you where you are in your own space, if you’d like.”

Molly Weasley was the first one to speak, a slight tremor in her voice. “I’m having grandchildren? Well, she can simply come live at the Burrow with us, right?” she asked, addressing Professor McGonagall.

“That is also an option we are willing to consider. You would still be doing your schoolwork, but it would be via owl correspondence. The decision is ultimately yours, Hermione,” Professor McGonagall said, smiling slightly at the girl.

“I’m free to go then?” Narcissa cut in, standing to leave. Professor McGonagall merely nodded at her, watching as the other woman showed herself out. 

“What is your decision, dear?” Molly asked, positively beaming at Hermione. The Gryffindor could only slightly smile at the redheaded woman. 

“Don’t you think we--I--should talk to Ronald first?” she offered weakly. Professor McGonagall met her gaze, nodding once. 

“That’s a splendid idea, Miss Granger,” the older witch replied, and a few moments later, Hermione found herself face-to-face with Ron.

“What’s going on? Why’s mum here?” he demanded at once, looking wildly between his one-time girlfriend and his mother. 

“There’s something you should know, dear,” Molly began.

“You’re the father,” Hermione interjected suddenly, cutting Molly off. Ron’s face turned paler than Hermione could quite remember, and he couldn’t quite meet his mother’s eyes--or anyone else’s, for that matter.

“I’ve offered to let Hermione live at the Burrow, with two children on the way and all,” Molly tried again. But Ron seemed to be coming back to his senses.

“Two? You’re having twins?” he asked Hermione incredulously, failing to keep a squeak out of his voice. 

Hermione opened her mouth, trying to think of something to say, then closed it again. Words were failing her, a sensation that she wasn’t used to and not too keen on. She merely nodded at Ron, who balled his fists up at his sides. 

“And you told my bloody mother before you told me?” he fumed.

“It wasn’t like that dear, Professor McGonagall performed the spell while Narcissa and I were both here…” Molly began. But it was too late. Ron turned on his heel and walked away. 

Before she could help herself, Hermione burst out, “I guess that means the Burrow is out.” Molly Weasley looked at Professor McGonagall for help, but the other woman merely shook her head.

“You’re always welcome at the Burrow, dear.” Molly said warmly, before standing and gathering her things. “I must be off, tons to do,” she said as Professor McGonagall showed her out of the office, leaving Hermione alone with her head of house. It was time to make a decision.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finally gets some concrete answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to get up! I got two new jobs (and had a bit of writer's block), but chapter 8 is finally here! Thank you so much for reading, and for your feedback. As always, I do not own the characters or the world, I just play with them.

It was the New Year by the time that Madam Helene arrived at Hogwarts. Hermione was used to the looks, to the comments about her ever-expanding belly by the time that she met with the older midwife witch. She had requested Hermione show up with Draco, Harry, and Ron in tow, so that paternity could officially be decided. As the quartet of former and current Hogwarts students stood before her, the graying witch began to speak.  
“As Professor McGonagall explained to you, Miss Granger, the spells used for determining paternity rely on blood magic. In short, this means that the spells divulge more information if the paternal grandparents or the father himself is in the room. Of course, the closer the relation, the stronger the spell works. Now, Miss Granger, Professor McGonagall believes that the first time she performed the spell, it malfunctioned due to the enchantment on the dolls that you and Mr. Malfoy were working on. The second test provided more clarity, but we want to be absolutely sure of paternity. There are a multitude of ways to determine paternity in the wizarding world; Professor McGonagall performed a spell, but what I’ll be doing today is a potion. Because all three of the potential fathers are here, we don’t want the different DNA interfering. I’ll need a few strands of each of the boys,” she explained, plucking some hair off of each man as she spoke. “Now for you, dear,” she continued, smiling warmly at Hermione and plucking some hair off of the brunette’s head.  
“How will this be any different than a spell?” Hermione asked. “Won’t the results be as convoluted as the spell?”  
Madam Helene smiled at Hermione. “You would think so. However, with each hair added to the potion, it will do one of two things: it will either emit red smoke, indicating that that hair’s contributor is NOT the father. If the hair belongs to the father, the smoke will turn purple, and a likeness of the father will appear in the smoke. Does that make sense to everyone?” the midwife asked, looking around at the four faces in front of her. Everyone nodded once, acknowledging her words. Hermione wrung her hands anxiously as Madam Helene prepared the base of the potion.The boys, for their part, avoided looking at each other; Draco developed a sudden interest in the ceiling, Harry’s shoes were suddenly fascinating, and Ron was glancing about the room, as though contemplating an escape.  
Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as her own hair was added to the cauldron and allowed to ingratiate itself to the base. As the smoke turned from gray to white, Madam Helene added the first sample of hair: Draco’s. The smoke turned black, then red as everyone looked on. Draco smirked, and leaned against a wall, watching as the smoke cleared away and the midwife added Harry’s hair. The smoke again turned black, and then red. The brunette Hogwarts alumni shot an encouraging smile at Hermione, and clapped Ron on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Ron,” he said to his best friend.  
“I want to make sure it really is you, young man,” Madam Helen interjected before Hermione could react. As the trio watched on, the smoke changed from black to purple, and a likeness of Ron appeared.  
“Congratulations, young man,” the midwife said in what was decidedly an unhappy tone. She smiled a tight smile that didn’t reach her cold eyes, and immediately turned back to the cauldron. “Twins. Due date of June the 28. Conception date of October 5. I also have the gender, if you would like it.” The witch’s voice was icy, and Hermione instinctively shrunk back from it.  
“I’d like to know,” Ron said weakly, his face paling.  
“And you?” the witch asked, fixing her cold gaze on Hermione.  
“I-I guess,” Hermione uttered.  
“You will have two boys. Miss Granger, a word?” The witch replied, effectively dismissing the boys.  
Hermione hung back as the three others left the room and Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey entered. “So?” Professor McGonagall asked, wasting no time.  
Madam Helene smiled reassuringly at Professor McGonagall. “You were correct, Minerva. Ronald Weasley is the father.”  
“How are you feeling dear?” Madam Pomfrey asked, directing her question at Hermione, who looked quite pale.  
“I-I’m fine, thanks,” Hermione muttered, swaying the slightest bit on her feet. Madame Pomfrey gently grasped Hermione by the elbow and guided the brunette to a chair.  
“You have a decision to make, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said kindly. “Molly Weasley wants you to stay at the Burrow; you wish to find your parents and live with them. Have you talked to Ronald?”  
Hermione shook her head softly before answering. “I don’t think he’d be the best father figure for my children. He’s been….Fred’s death has changed him. Not for good.”  
Professor McGonagall nodded, as though in agreement with Hermione. “Do you want to find your parents, or raise the boys in the Burrow?”  
“I’m going to find my parents after the boys are born. We’ll live with them for about a year, and then make a decision.” Hermione’s voice was final.  
Outside the door, Ron was listening intently. Not a good father figure? Him? But he was the bloody father! Scowling, he turned away from the door. If Hermione didn’t want him in her children’s life, that was fine with him.  
Back inside the room, the midwife was speaking. “Your babies, while magical, do not require a midwife witch to birth them. You could always seek out your parents, and then have the babies at St. Mungo’s if you choose. I understand that the school will allow correspondence courses. Or you could stay here, have the babies at St. Mungo’s, and then find your parents. It is your decision.”  
Hermione weighed her options. She suddenly felt very tired; her body felt heavier than usual. She blinked furiously, trying to stay awake. The midwife and Madam Pomfrey promptly went to Hermione’s side and helped the young woman to stay upright. Professor McGonagall magicked a stretcher out of the air, and, placing the brunette on it, directed it to the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey and Madame Helene whispering to one another as they followed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione makes her decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, for reading. Harry Potter characters and world do not belong to me, I only play with them. I know that this one is a shorter chapter, but here's where the real fun starts.

Hermione awoke with a start the next morning. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she glanced around. She was in the hospital wing, Madam Helene and Madam Pomfrey scuttling about, occasionally glancing at her bed. Someone had placed flowers on the table beside where she lay. The Gryffindor tried to sit up, but the looks that both older women shot her made the brunette stay in place. A light rap at the door to the ward drew all three women’s attention, and Professor McGonagall entered, speaking only momentarily with the healing witches. 

“What happened?” Hermione croaked as the headmistress sat down in the empty chair beside her bed.

“I was hoping that you could tell me. We aren’t too sure what is going on with you. We’ve checked all of the wizarding diagnoses that we know of, yet you don’t fit into any of them. We were wondering, perhaps, if it was a more….Muggle….problem?” Professor McGonagall asked quietly. 

“What about my blood sugar?” Hermione asked, trying to remember the last time that she really ate. 

“We….haven’t been able to get a reading, dear. That’s why you’ve got the dextrose IV. We need you to eat,” Madam Pomfrey interrupted, scuttling over to the pair. At her words, a plate of food appeared on Hermione’s tray, filled with eggs, bacon, toast, and hashbrowns. A pitcher of pumpkin juice and empty goblet appeared, and Hermione remember how thirsty she was. 

Professor McGonagall stood briskly, nodding both to the student and to Madam Pomfrey. “I’ll check on you later, Miss Granger.”

***

Later that afternoon, after being carefully watched by Madam Pomfrey as she ate two full plates of food at both breakfast and lunch, the witch declared Hermione fit to leave. As the brunette was walking out, Madam Helene stopped her. “You still haven’t made a decision, Miss Granger. I need to know your answer.”

Hermione looked from one witch to the other; Madam Pomfrey simply shrugged her shoulders. “I tried to put this off until you felt better, but really, it’s in your best interest,” the witch told her briskly. 

Ginny and Ron were at Hogwarts. Ginny at least, would help with preparations. She would be looked over by Professor McGonagall. She would still have to endure Draco Malfoy, though. On the other hand, if she wanted to find her parents, it would be easier to do it now, not later with newborn twins. Plus, if all else failed, she could go back to the Burrow, at least for a little bit. And it wasn’t like she couldn’t keep in contact with Ginny, Ron, and McGonagall….

Setting her chin, Hermione looked between Madam Pomfrey and Madam Helene for only a brief second before indecision set back in. Her whole world was Hogwarts. But her parents…

“I….I’m going to find my parents,” she decided before she could change her mind. “I will leave this weekend.”  
“But it’s already Thursday!” Madam Pomfrey began to argue.

“I know it’s rather short notice, but don’t you both agree that it’s better for me to travel while I’m not very far along? I will, of course, be using Muggle transportation after leaving the grounds,” Hermione stated matter-of-factly. 

“Yes, of course. I will tell Professor McGonagall, unless you choose to?” Madame Pomfrey asked.

“No need, Poppy. I’m right here,” Professor McGonagall interjected, moving from the doorway to stand beside Hermione. “I have one condition, however,” she continued.

“What condition?” Hermione asked before she could help herself.

“You will send me weekly updates via owl, in addition to your courses.”

Hermione felt relief flood through her; she had been sure that Professor McGonagall’s condition would involve staying longer to make sure that she really wanted to find her parents. “Of course,” she said, beaming at the older witch before leaving the three older women to themselves. 

Once in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione quickly packed a bag; the rest of her Hogwarts stuff would be shipped to her whenever she owled Professor McGonagall with her location. “Why are you leaving again?” Ginny Weasley asked as Hermione threw Hogwarts: A History into her bag.

“Because I need to find my parents. And because Ron doesn’t want the responsibility of raising two childrens. And….” Hermione paused. She didn’t want to go into why she didn’t want to stay at the Burrow, or why she couldn’t find it in herself to stay at Hogwarts now. 

“And because you don’t want to disappoint my mother when Ron makes it clear that he has no intention of helping you raise the babies.” It wasn’t a question.

Hermione simply nodded, zipping up the bag and stowing it in a corner of the room. “When did you become so observant?” she teased the younger girl, affording her a small smile. 

“When you became so worried about disappointing my mother. Who, to be honest, could probably never be disappointed in anything you do,” Ginny replied, glancing down at her red comforter. 

“Gin...you don’t disappoint your mother,” Hermione said softly, taking the redhead’s hand in hers and patting it gently. Ginny only slightly nodded in response. 

The following day flew by for Hermione; she kept her head down in lessons, and ate dinner quickly and quietly. She would stay in Hogsmeade that evening, and the following day, Saturday, she would begin her journey in earnest. 

At promptly seven o’clock, after promising Ginny that she would write every week, she said goodbye to Professor McGonagall and made her way to the Three Broomsticks.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione arrives in Hogsmeade and begins her journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super late (and short) chapter! I've been working a lot of doubles, and have a lot of ideas for Hermione after the babies are born, so getting there is taking a bit of time to get straightened out. Thank you, as always, for sticking with this story. This is the first in a series, so I should get into a routine and schedule soon that will be carried through my other fics as well. If you have any feedback, as always, let me know.

Arriving at the Three Broomsticks, Hermione ordered a bottle of Butterbeer and made her way up to her room, bag slung over her shoulder. She felt a wave of relief wash over her tired body as she set her bag down on the rickety bed. She never thought that she would feel relieved to be away from Hogwarts, but the past few weeks had been taxing on her mental and emotional state. Downing the Butterbeer, Hermione sat at the desk, and pulling parchment and quill toward her, began to write. 

_Dear Harry,_

_I made it to the Three Broomsticks safely. I’ll write more when I find my parents. They should be in Australia, I think. They’ve always talked about relocating there once I was out of school. I know that you’re busy with your new job, but please don’t forget to check in on Ron and Ginny. They miss you. I miss you, too._

_With Love,_

_Hermione_

Finishing the letter, Hermione yawned. She was exhausted, but the possibility of finding her parents kept her giddy with excitement, the first time she’d felt excited in quite a while. Doubt mingled with the excitement; what if the obliviation didn’t work, or her parents didn’t want her around? Shoving these thoughts aside, Hermione grabbed her jacket and the letter and began walking to the post office in town. 

Snow was lightly falling, a light contrast to the inky black sky. Hermione’s breaths were coming out in puffs, but the cold spurred her on towards her destination. Reaching the post office a few moments later, the brunette tied her letter onto an owl’s leg, watching as it sped off. The walk back to the Three Broomsticks had the desired effect; by the time she reached her room, she was too tired to worry, or be excited for tomorrow.

\-----------------

The next morning, like many others before it, came much too soon for Hermione. Before leaving Hogwarts, she had done some research on Australia, and found a small magical community near Sydney, where her parents may be. She had arranged to Floo in and stay at an inn for a while until she found her parents and attempted to reverse the obliviation. Everything else would go from there. Because of the time zone differences, Hermione knew that she had to move quickly before fireplaces began closing as shops closed their doors for the evening. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, Hermione stepped into the green fire and said, “Traver’s Inn!” before the familiar rush of dizziness compelled her to close her eyes, only daring to open them when she felt herself slowing down.

Stepping out of the fireplace a few seconds later, the brunette dusted herself off before stepping up to the desk. “Name?” the bored witch behind the counter asked, barely looking up from her issue of Witch Weekly. 

“Hermione Granger,” the Gryffindor said quietly, wishing that she had given any other name.

“Sign, please.”

Signing her name, Hermione received her room key and made her way up to her room. Running a hot bath, she sank in, letting the warmth wash away the stress and worry for the moment. Tomorrow would be a new day, and she would be able to explore Sydney. She would also owl Ginny and Professor McGonagall to let them know that she arrived safely. For now, she just wanted to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione changes her mind and babies are born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know most of you think that I abandoned this fic, and I don't blame you. It's been forever since I've even looked at this fic. But so much has happened. I got married. I got divorced. I moved twice, and switched jobs like 3 times. Currently I'm working full time and going back to school full time. But I'm back, and hopefully the way I have the story going currently makes more sense. As always, all characters belong to JKR, I'm just playing with them.

_Dear Gin,_

__

__

_I made it to Australia safe and sound. I have it on good authority that my parents are somewhere near me, but why I decided to find them again, I don't know. Maybe this whole thing is stupid. But I can't go back to the Burrow, and I can't stand to be at Hogwarts. I just don't know what to do, I guess. I hope you're well. Remember, you're not a disappointment. At least, not to me._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

=================================================================================================

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

__

__

_I hope this letter finds you well. I am safely in Australia and I have it on good authority that my parents are somewhere near here. It shouldn't take too long to find them, but undoing that obliviation may take some time. I will write more when I know more. ___

____

____

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione Granger_

==================================================================================================

Hermione sighed and read over both letters. There wasn't anything in either of them that wasn't true. She rolled the parchment up and left the inn, searching for the nearest post office. Her belly was at it's biggest point yet; she'd have to go to St. Mungo's in the next day or two at the rate the twins were developing. Sydney was....hot. There was no other word for it, really. Hermione was feeling more and more unsure of things by the minute. Maybe this was a bad idea; maybe that nagging voice in her head was right. The Burrow would be more than adequate for the year before she started teaching. Or staying at Hogwarts, even! What was she even trying to accomplish in Sydney, other than a spell that had never been performed successfully. Sighing, Hermione headed to the post office, attaching the two letters to two different birds before she felt it. Twin kicks, hard ones. It was now or never. Hermione rushed back to the inn, grabbing her bag and a handful of Floo Powder before shouting “St. Mungo's!” and rushing away.

The nurse at the entrance to St. Mungo's took one look at Hermione Granger and summoned a wheelchair, wheeling the brunette straight past registration and into triage. “Labor. She's going to have them at any moment,” the nurse explained as someone else took over the pushing of the chair. “The room's all ready for you, Miss Granger. You even have some visitors already. Of course it's up to you who's there when you actually have your babies,” the new nurse explained, wheeling Hermione into room 413. Professor McGonagall was standing by the door; Mrs. Weasley was sitting in a chair, and Ron was nowhere to be found. Ginny, however, was looking out the window. All three women turned and smiled at the brunette as she was transferred to the bed. 

“I changed my mind. I don't want to undo the obliviation. I mean, I do, but not with twins in tow,” Hermione explained between pants and contractions. “I also don't think I could stand....ow!...staying at the Burrow,” she continued between grimaces. “Am I still being offered my own place at Hogwarts?” she asked, squeezing her eyes shut in pain.

“You'll always have a home at Hogwarts, dear,” Professor McGonagall replied kindly, exchanging a knowing look with Molly. Ginny grinned at Hermione. “I can babysit sometimes for you,” she offered, her green eyes lighting up at the prospect. Hermione giggled for the first time in what felt like years.

“Sure Gin, you can babysit,” she said as a team of doctors came into the room. It wasn't much longer than that that the boys came into the world. “Names?” the doctor asked in a bored voice.

“Hugo Nicolaus and Frederick Michael,” came Hermione's small voice, tears slipping down her face. Molly and Ginny were crying silently, too, and Hermione thought that she saw Professor McGonagall swiping at her eye, though she couldn't be sure. 

“I can't think of a better way to honor his memory,” Hermione continued, looking down at two sets of brown eyes. 

“There will be a place in Hogwarts built for you, Hermione. It will be on the grounds, not in the castle, but I believe that I am correct in presuming that that's what you would prefer,” Professor McGonagall said dryly, a slight smile on her face. 

“That's much preferred. I still have the password to the flat, as well,” Hermione reminded the older woman.

“It will take about a week or two to get it built and furnished, so until then the flat would be easiest,” Professor McGonagall acknowledged. 

“When can I go back?” Hermione directed the question at the doctor. 

“We'd like to keep you and the babies overnight for observation, but I don't see any harm in you going back as early as tomorrow,” the doctor replied distractedly. Hugs were given all around before the two older women Disapparated, leaving Ginny and Hermione alone in the room.

“You're really brave, you know,” Ginny said, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Hugo. 

“Somehow I feel like the war was easier than this,” Hermione said, grinning at the redhead. The two girls fell quiet, both lost in thought. The sun had set by the time that Ginny put both boys down and Floo'd her way back to Hogwarts, and Hermione drifted off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is released from the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is another short one, but I didn't really know how to get Hermione back to the castle. Next chapter is a time-jump and maybe the start of a relationship! As always, I only play with the characters; JKR owns them.

Hermione awakened to the sound of screams the next morning and for the briefest of moments, she was back in the war. Looking groggily around the room, the brunette reached for her wand, panicking when she couldn't find it. The events of yesterday came flooding back, and she allowed herself to relax before picking up Hugo. It seemed that Fred could sleep through anything, even his twin's screams. Smiling gently down at her baby, Hermione fed and changed him before Fred even opened his eyes for the day. Medi-witches came in and out, bustling around the room and checking vitals of mother and sons.

 

Ginny was the only one that visited that day, though she did bring gifts for the boys from her mother. Unwrapping them, Hermione laughed, the sound catching in her throat. There were two knitted sweaters, one with an 'H' and one with an 'F', both maroon.

 

“Mum says there's no way that those two aren't getting into Gryffindor,” Ginny said, her voice cracking. Hermione only nodded. She knew how much pain it must have caused Molly to knit these sweaters and know that her son was gone, that that 'F' was for someone else.

 

Ginny stayed until mid-afternoon, when the doctor finally released Hermione and the boys. Promising that she would check in with Madam Pomfrey every week, the brunette loaded the boys into a double stroller and exited the hospital, worried about how she would get back to Hogwarts. Ginny had already Floo'd back, but Hermione wasn't even sure where Hogwarts _was_ , let alone how to make it appear as anything but a dangerous moor.

 

Professor McGonagall was waiting on a wall outside, the markings around her eyes giving her away. Hermione smiled at the tabby and waited for the woman to appear. When she transfigured, McGonagall looked slightly ruffled; she patted her hair into place even as she strode to meet Hermione.

 

“Miss Weasley told me they released you early,” she replied to the brunette's unasked question.

 

“How...how do we get back? The babies aren't fit for magical travel yet and Hogwarts is expertly hidden,” Hermione replied.

 

“That's why I've come, Miss Granger. You will find that while you can't stroll into Hogwarts, you _can_ fly in. And I have just the thing for you,” McGonagall answered, transfiguring the stroller (Hermione had grabbed the boys out of it just in time) into a broomstick, the baby seats snug on either side of the rider.

 

“I haven't flown since the War,” Hermione whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.

 

“It's the only way back, dear. Unless you'd rather stay here?” Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow.

 

Climbing shakily on the broomstick, Hermione willed herself not to think about the last time she was on a broom. She couldn't afford to have flashbacks now. Not when she had two beautiful boys who were wholly dependent on her and her ability to keep them safe.

 

It was half an hour before Hermione made it back onto Hogwarts grounds. There was little fanfare as Professor McGonagall transfigured the broom back into the double stroller it had started from. Once the twins and Hermione were in the castle, however, chaos seemed to surround them. Everyone wanted to hold the babies. To touch the babies. To know the babies names. It was exhausting, really. Hermione made excuse after excuse, finally making it to the Great Hall and whispering Violet, leaning against the door as it closed behind her.

 

It was then that she noticed the apartment's décor had changed. No longer was it stale and felt more like a classroom. Now it was homey and comforting—and decked out almost exclusively in Gryffindor colors. Smiling to herself, Hermione had no doubt who had talked Professor McGonagall into re-decorating. And with a start, Hermione realized that same person was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a copy of _Quidditch Quarterly_. Ginny Weasley.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron tries to have a conversation, Hermione makes dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Back to regular posts for the moment! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos; I love getting them. This chapter tends to ramble in some places, sorry. But overall, I think things are going the way that I want them to. As always, all characters belong to JKR, I only borrow and play with them.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Hermione stuttered, surprised to see the redhead. Surprised at how natural Ginny looked, sitting at her kitchen table in her apartment. Like she belonged there. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. If she didn't know what that felt like, Hermione would swear that's what happened.

 

“I wanted to be here when you got back. In case you needed help with the boys or anything...” Ginny's voice trailed off; she was clearly wondering if she should have come.

 

“I'm just surprised to see you, that's all.” Hermione fumbled around; the words weren't coming out right. “Of course I appreciate you being here,” she tried again, but it still felt wrong.

 

The twins started crying, shaking Hermione out of her sudden need to explain herself to Ginny Weasley. Ginny stood as Hermione leaned over the double stroller. Before she could even ask, Ginny has picked up Hugo and headed toward the nursery. Hermione grabbed Fred and followed, knowing that Ginny was as stubborn as her mother. Thinking of Molly made Hermione's heart hurt.

 

“Ron was asking about them, you know,” Ginny said softly, changing Hugo and putting him in his crib before holding out her arms to take Fred. Hermione let her have him.

 

“If Ronald wants to speak to me, he can owl me. Or come see me. I'm not going to him, groveling on my knees, begging him to be a part of his children's life,” Hermione said with finality as Ginny shooed her out of the nursery and back towards the kitchen. A tap at the door signaled someone visiting, and Hermione shot Ginny a knowing look. Of course. Opening the door, Hermione stepped aside, letting Ron inside.

 

“Hermione, we need to talk,” he began, his eyes shifting from Ginny to Hermione. “Can you leave us alone for a minute, Ginny?” he asked.

 

“Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of Ginny,” Hermione shot back; it felt safest this way. Like she couldn't get hurt again this way.

 

Ron rubbed his neck, considering his options. Hermione's face made it clear that this wasn't up for debate. Finally, he cleared his throat and began to speak. “I've been a right git,” he began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I know that, I do. But I wanted you to know that if you need anything, if they need anything....I'll do my best. And you're welcome back at home, too, but Mum said that you already knew that...”

 

“I don't need anything from you, Ronald. When I needed you the most, you weren't there. And that's all that matters,” Hermione retorted.

“'Mione...” Ron tried again.

 

“Don't, Ronald. You've made your choice. You still smell like Firewhiskey, by the way,” she said coldly, edging him to the door and closing it on him before sinking down on the floor. She refused to cry over this, not now. She had cried too many nights in a row. She wasn't wasting any more tears. Still, she shook, like she was cold or mad. It took her a moment to realize that Ginny was still there, sitting at the table.

 

Standing up on shaky legs, Hermione afforded the redhead a weak smile. “Sorry you had to see that, Gin,” she said apologetically.

 

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked; it seemed that what had happened had just now hit her. In no time at all, she was at the brunette's side.

 

“I'm fine. I promise.” It was a lie, but Ginny didn't need the burden of Hermione's problems on top of her own. “Are you staying for dinner?” She asked, her voice light and airy.

 

Ginny started. She wasn't expecting the sudden change in Hermione's demeanor. “Do you _want_ me to stay for dinner?” she asked timidly, unsure how to take her friend.

 

“I'd like it if you did,” Hermione replied, opening cabinets and cupboards alike, seeing what was available. “What are you in the mood for? I can do spaghetti, or pizza, or chicken,” she called behind her shoulder, shifting things around in front of her.

 

“I haven't had pizza in so long,” Ginny replied. “The last time was when we went to Muggle London for a day,” she said.

 

“Pizza it is, then,” Hermione said, getting the ingredients together. “I can't promise that this will be as good as the pizza we had that day,” she continued, putting sauce on a frozen dough.

 

Ginny insisted on doing the dishes after they ate. She also insisted it was the best pizza she'd ever had. Hermione reminded her it was only the second pizza she'd ever had. Ginny stayed late into the night, only leaving after Hermione had had a nap, and with the promise that she would be back tomorrow.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione begins classes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for reading. This one seems a bit short, but we've got the plague at my house (and still no internet), so things have been hectic. As always, characters are JKR owned.

The next day dawned bright and sunny; hardly surprising for the end of June, Hermione thought bitterly as she dressed the boys. It would be her first day back in class, and she was already dreading it. Snape was gone, Dumbledore was gone....it seemed like everyone was gone. _'Now I know how Harry always felt,'_ she thought as she pushed the double stroller out of the apartment and into the Great Hall. First was Transfiguration with the Hufflpuffs. Hermione sought little comfort in that, however; while the two houses typically got along, the brunette knew that her peers couldn't help from making comments.

 

She arrived to Transfiguration twenty minutes early; she'd been too nervous to eat. Professor McGonagall was perched atop her desk, a kindly smile on her face. “I had a feeling you would be early, Miss Granger. I trust you want to be as inconspicuous as possible?”

 

“I want to have a normal day,” Hermione explained, a hint of defeat in her voice. She had managed to keep the quiver out of her voice, at least.

“You know that's impossible,” Professor McGonagall replied. Her heart ached for the girl, but there was little that she could do. Not only was Hermione Granger a war hero, she was also the only student in Hogwarts history to have children attend classes with her, or indeed have a child at the school.

 

“I know it's impossible. It's just....I was at the top of my class before the war. I was the one that everyone knew as the smart one. Now I'm the war hero and the one with twins,” Hermione's shoulders dropped, and her gaze fell to the floor.

 

“You're still the smart one, Miss Granger. I believe if you recall, all grades were kept when the war broke out. You're still at the top of your class. Draco Malfoy is second. However, the parenting class may change that. The Minister has been so kind as to excuse you from it, but Mr. Malfoy is now a single father to the dolls,” Professor McGonagall's face held the faintest trace of a smile as she filled the Gryffindor in.

 

Students began trickling in at that moment, beginning with Ginny. The two girls took seats at the back of the room, situating their desks so that the babies, for the most part, were hidden from view. The lesson seemed to drag on and on, but the babies were quiet as Professor McGonagall demonstrated how to make a desk sprout wings and fly around the room. Sneaking a peek between attempts, Hermione saw that they were asleep.

 

The days seemed to drag on; classes seemed to suddenly take 3 hours instead of an hour and a half. It was Wednesday before Hermione heard anything about her new place of residence. Professor McGonagall had approached her in the Great Hall before breakfast. “Your cabin will be ready on Saturday, Miss Granger,” the professor said, a faint smile on her lips. She had tried not to show favoritism to the girl, but they had been through so much that there seemed to be a soft spot where Hermione Granger was concerned.

 


End file.
